Where Do I Go From Here?
by PWARBA
Summary: This is a story about what the mind of a rape victim is like.. I wrote it to provide comfort and understanding.


Title: Where Do I Go From Here?  
Rated: R (for rape)  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. If you want it then ask FUNimatiin, Toei and whoever else owns it.   
Author's notes: Don't flame me unless you truly hated the story. I have no time to listen to people who do not know how to control their emotions maturely. I know Trunks is older, but for now he is close enough to Marron's age to still be in high school with her. I believe that is all. Oh yeah, this is to enlighten people on how someone deals with rape and is trying to get on the road to recovery.   
  
Marron waved good-bye to her friends and headed off into the darkness   
of night. She was comfortable now that she was out of that situation. She   
thought back to the party she had just left.  
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She rang the doorbell and as the door opened, she saw the room packed   
with bodies. There were people smoking drugs, drinking alcohol, making out   
and worse. Her lip curled in disgust as she flipped her blonde hair over   
her shoulder. She wanted to leave. And she should have left, but she promised her friend she would be here tonight. Suddenly, a boy of about eighteen came up into her face.  
"Hey, babe," he had stuttered, "Want some action?" Her friend had   
shoved him away, but the rest of the night was not much better.  
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She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, that Marron didn't have time to   
react to the man who grabbed her and threw her roughly to the ground. As   
her head connected with the hard cement, her world blurred then faded into blackness...  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
I woke up in an alley, my head and other parts of me throbbing in pain.   
I looked down at myself and saw blood, bruises, abrasions, and the remains   
of my clothes. I staggered to me feet, determined to stand upright, but I   
lost my balance and sank to my knees. What had happened to me? No. I know   
what happened. That man had...oh God.  
Despite my embarrassment, I stagger through the streets to my house. My   
parents aren't home. Good. I don't have to explain anything to them.   
Drunkenly, I move to take off my shoes, when I realize they are absent. I   
move to my room and get into some clean clothes, as though they would cover   
the filth I feel inside of me. I look in the mirror and see that I look the   
same. There is blood and dirt smeared over my cheeks and the smiling light   
that once made my eyes glow has been extinguished. There are a few deeper   
scratches on the face, but a gash would still be paled by the gaping wound I   
feel eating away at me.  
I go to throw away the tattered remains of what used to be my favorite   
dress and I notice the light blinking on the answering machine. I push the   
erase button, not bothering to listen to the messages.  
I go to the kitchen to eat something, only to find I am not hungry. I   
feel as though I have just eaten a feast. Quietly, I make my way to the   
bathroom to take a shower. As I shed my clothes, I look at myself. What   
could he have seen in this? Disgusted, I look away and step into the   
running water.  
The water is freezing cold, but I just don't care. The soap on my body   
cleans the outside, but what can I do to cleanse the dirt on the inside?   
Angry with the bar of soap in my hand, as though it should have held some   
divine answer, I throw it out of the room into the hallway. I had forgotten   
to close the door. What kind of idiot am I that I don't remember to close   
the f*ing bathroom door? I can't hold it in any longer and I break down in   
tears as the icy water hits my back. Every terrible emotion I have ever   
felt hits me like a brick wall all at once. Hurt, betrayal, rage, guilt,   
all of them not making any sense but being perfectly clear at the same time.   
Why did this happen to me? Am I really that bad a person?  
I manage to turn off the water and find my way to my room where I   
collapse on the floor, unable to make it to my bed. The blood and dirt on   
my skin has washed away, but the damage to my mind and emotions is a billion   
times worse.  
I wake up again, this time clothed and tucked snuggly in my bed under   
the watchful eyes of my parents.  
"Oh, you're awake," my mother brushes the hair from my face.  
"What happened?" my father asks me, concern delving canyons of worry on   
his forehead. I want to tell them everything that had happened to me.   
But instead I find myself making up some excuse about being tired after the   
party.  
"Oh, ok," my mother says hesitantly.  
'No!' I want to scream, 'No that's not what happened at all!'  
They both get up to leave, but I want them to stay with me.  
'Don't leave me alone...' I want them to hear me, but I stay silent.  
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It's been a week now, and I never leave the house. It's summer and   
school doesn't start for another week. I walk around aimlessly, entranced   
by a force I don't understand.  
"Hey, how 'bout lunch?" my dad smiles heartily, but I can see the lie   
clearly in his eyes.  
"I'm not hungry," I tell him. I had just eaten...hadn't I? I must   
have because my stomach feels full. The phone rings and I answer it.  
"Hey, Marron!" Bra chimes on the other end. I am not in the mood for   
her cheerful attitude so I put the phone back on the hook and walk off,   
leaving my dad in shock.  
I walk past a mirror and I see a ghost. No, it's not a ghost, but my   
reflection. My God, I look terrible. The dark circles under my eyes prove   
the nightmares keeping me awake are more than my imagination.   
In the darkness of my room, I relive every moment of that night. My hair is dull and my cheekbones are high and prominent.   
Maybe I should eat something, but my stomach churns an angry rejection at the idea.   
I see my mother in the mirror as she passes me in he hall. She turns to   
look at me, worry dulling her bright blue eyes. Then she continues on her   
way.  
'No! Come back!' I scream silently, 'Tell me everything will be ok! Hold me in your arms where I know I'm safe! Hold me like you did when I was little! Just let me cry on your shoulder! Please...don't leave me alone.'   
Of course she does not hear me.  
"I'm so worried about her," she tells my father. She sounds so   
frightened. "Something happened to her."  
'Yes! Something DID happen!' I yell in my mind, 'Please come ask me   
what!' I want to run into their open arms and tell them everything that's   
happened to me. Instead, I go to my room and lock the door behind me.  
I crawl into the tent that I made for myself to be a barrier against the phantoms that haunt my mind. I feel so unsafe. The thought makes me cry quietly. Who can protect me? Who can I trust?  
Once my eyes have emptied themselves of tears, I pull myself out of   
bed. It is night and the house is quiet. I wrap myself up in a blanket,   
but it does little to keep out the cold dread of that night, and does not   
give me any comfort as my mind tries to sort out the jumble of thoughts as   
they race through my brain, each wanting to be understood. I wander around   
the house like a zombie. I find myself doing this often as of late.  
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It has been a week and it is the first day of school. I drag myself   
out of bed and get dressed. I have my book bag packed and ready to go, but   
all I want to do is sleep. To crawl back into my bed and sleep the   
nightmares away. Of course I cannot. I refuse breakfast yet again and   
open the door. I look out for the first time in two weeks at the world I   
once loved. Now it is a dark and dangerous place.  
I walk to school, watching the darkest alleys for any danger that may   
pounce on me. Before I realize it, I am tripping on the steps of the school   
building. Just as I am about to hit the hard cement, a pair of strong arms   
wrap themselves around my waist and hold me steady until I find my feet.  
"Are you ok, Marron?" a familiar voice asks me. I want to fall into   
this persons arms and cry my problems away and tell them all that has   
happened. But instead, I push them away.  
"Let go of me, Trunks!" I almost scream at him. I don't care if he is   
a friend, he is still a man. I cannot trust him.  
"Marron," he looks at me with those big blue eyes of his. Eyes that   
once seemed lively and kind now appear so predatory and evil. No, I cannot   
trust this man. I look at him in fear and run as fast as my feet can carry   
my thin frame. I do not stop running until I am locked in a bathroom stall   
where I fall to my knees and cry. The trauma of Trunks touching me is too   
much to bear. I bury my face in my hands.  
"Oh God, Marron!" I hear Bra's voice call my name. I look up from my   
hands to see girls huddled around the stall, some standing on toilets to   
peer over the edge. Bra leaps over the top and puts her arm over my   
shoulder.  
"It's ok, honey," she whispers in my ear. The words that just seemed   
right at the time for her held so much deep meaning for me. My tears turned   
to joy.  
'Someone cares!' I thought with elation. 'Please listen to me.'  
She does not hear my unspoken pleas she holds me for another moment.  
"What class do you have?" she asks me. I pull out my schedule and hand   
it to her to read. "You have first and third class with Trunks, Second with   
Goten, and your last class is with me." She explains to me, but I only half   
hear her. I make it through the first day, somehow, being passed from   
person to person. I shrink away from Trunks' touch. I know logically he   
means well, but my instincts are yelling at me danger! danger! Half of me   
wants to scream 'Look at me! Can't you see I'm in pain?!' while the other   
half is telling me not to attract any attention to myself or it might   
happen again.  
'Someone understand me...please,' I plead. Again my silent cry for   
help goes unnoticed.  
I walk home and drop my bag on the floor just inside the door. I take off my shoes and go to my room. I lock the door and go to sleep.   
My mother pounding on the door jars me from my nightmare.  
"Come eat dinner!" she yelled from the other side of the door.   
"I'm not hungry!" I moan. "Go away!"  
"Marron, open this door," she demands. "Don't make me come in there!"  
"I said go away!" I yell again. Although I want her to come in, I feel that if I open the door, the haunts of my past will conquer the only place of safety I have left.  
To my surprise, she breaks down the door. I stare at her in shocked anger. Though the door did nothing to keep out the demons, it still provided some comfort.  
"What is wrong with you, Marron?" she shouts at me.   
"Nothing! I've told you a thousand times!" I yell back at her, her angry glare unaffecting me. "There's nothing wrong with me! I'm just not hungry!"  
"You've been 'just not hungry' for two weeks, Marron," she plants her fists on her hips. "So it's more than a teenager appetite. There is something wrong with you."  
'Yes!' my mind cries out. 'Exactly! Help me know how to tell you!'  
Instead I scream at her, "Just leave me alone! There's nothing wrong!"   
I open my mouth to say more, maybe even tell her. Explain why I am the way I am. But she interrupts me.  
"Never mind," she waves her hand, as though dismissing me, "I don't want to hear it.   
My heart sinks. She doesn't want to listen to me. If that's what she wants, then I will keep quiet. I won't tell her. If she doesn't want to listen, what's the use?  
A month passes me by and I still have not told anyone my secret. No   
one wants to listen. No one cares about a terrible person like me. I don't   
care about my school work and I'm failing all my classes. The councilors   
are sending for me almost every day. At lunch I sit and pick at my food. I   
gaze at the plastic knife, wondering if it might do any damage. Would this   
utensil finally be my savior? I test the sharpness on my thumb and decide   
all I would do is break it. I feel guilty for wasting money on food that   
will go uneaten by me and I hand it off to Trunks and Goten.  
But Trunks is not eating either. Very strange. I shrug it off and   
walk towards my next class. I know I have twenty-five minutes left of   
lunch, but I don't care. I sense a presence behind me and I whip around to   
come face to face with Trunks. I let out a startled cry. Suddenly, he   
grasps my wrist and fear courses through my veins and I started screaming. He tries to shush me, but I scream even louder. He drags me to a corner and releases me.  
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" he hisses, "You're a quivering   
skeleton!"  
"Don't hurt me," I whimper, tears streaming down my face, "Please don't   
hurt me..."  
"Oh God, Marron," he whispers, "Oh my God, it's true."  
The strain on my nerves is too much for me. My weakened body cannot   
handle the stress and I pass out.  
When I come to, I find I am in a bed in the nurses' office. My parents   
are there along with my friends.  
"Marron?" Trunks reaches for my hand, but I pull away. "Tell me the   
truth. Were you raped?" In answer, I can only cry.  
I catch a glimpse of Bra, crying in Goten's arms. My mother and father   
hold each other, relief and anguish battling for supremacy on their faces.  
Thankfully, the nurse lets me go home and I go to bed as soon as I walk   
in the door.   
I wake up the next afternoon and wander into the living room   
where my parents are seated on the couch. As soon as they see me, they rush   
to my side. I begin to cry again as I finally tell them my story.  
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It was so hard to tell them what happened. How could they possibly   
understand? But when the last tear was shed, my hell saw it's snowfall.   
The nightmare will never be over. I will still have dreams that leave me in   
a cold sweat. What that man did to me will haunt me for the rest of my   
life. But now I can see a shining glimmer of hope that maybe my life will   
not be ruled by the nightmares, I will not be driven to fear by my past. I   
scorn the people who believe others like me can just "snap out" of a   
depression like that. To them I say let's put you in a come and see you   
just "snap out" of that. I would tell them not to try to help someone like   
me by yourself, but lead them to someone who can. And be a friend. Never   
will you understand the power of a true friend until you've experienced this   
pain for yourself. My advice to those, just listen. You never know whose   
light of hope and salvation you are.  
  
I hope that this story has enlightened or moved you in some way. I wrote it to help others to understand what is going through the minds of many rape victims. If you suspect something, ask questions. It may just be want they've been waiting for...  



End file.
